Xenocryst
by Basikilos
Summary: Libra feels as though he is only masquerading as a priest. Confused and torn between freedom and familiarity, he struggles to voice his fears to Lissa.


Disclaimer: All property of Intelligent Systems! :D

* * *

Sitting down, back leaning against a towering oak, Libra shook his head. He'd told her his secrets – almost all of them – but this one was too deep, too close to his heart to reveal. It was almost a guilty pleasure, keeping such a secret from her. He was lying and he knew it. But he had lied his whole life, and now he was trapped, trapped within a façade of a personality that didn't truly belong to him.

"Hey, what're you thinking about?" Almost as though his thoughts of her had summoned her, there she was, leaning over him, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

She was beautiful, he thought, and there was no way he could bear losing her. So it was crucial that his secret remained buried, hidden within the recesses of his heart. He smiled and curled a strand of her wild hair behind her ear. "Nothing much."

Lissa pouted. "Aw…come on, Libra! We've been married for a month, give me some credit! I think I'd be able to tell if you've got something heavy on your mind, and this is one of those times."

He sighed, wondering how he would get out of this conversation without revealing anything. "Is it really that easy to see right through me?"

"Of course it is! You're my ghost, remember?" she giggled. Her expression sobered, and she laid a hand on his arm as she sat down beside him. "But really, if something's bothering you, please don't be afraid to tell me. I get it if you don't want to talk about it and I'll give you alone time if you want it, just remember I'm always here, okay?"

Instead of cheering him up, the words gave him a lingering sense of shame. She must have seen it on his face, because now her face was close, _so_ _close_, and her eyes wide with concern. "Please, Libra. I can't bear seeing you so upset. Is this about your parents? What they did to you doesn't define who you are, you're still _you._"

And that was the very crux of the problem, Libra thought. He wasn't himself. Too often, he felt trapped by the heavy monk's robe that he wore rather than freed by the teachings of Naga. He had joined the faith because that had been what had saved him, saved him from the thievery and crime and suffering that his childhood promised him. Life was infinitely better as a holy man, he reflected, and he had no right to complain, but still he was not truly happy.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself to speak…and closed it again. He was not ready. He would never be ready.

Lissa furrowed her brow, looking downcast. "Okay, Libra. I get it. I'll give you some alone time. I'll just be down by the camp if you need anything."

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Wait! What if…" his courage failed him once more, but he fished around in his mind, found some more, and continued onwards. "…what if I told you that I'm not really who you think I am?"

Time slowed to an excruciating pace. She hesitated. She took a step towards him. Her mouth opened. His ears finally registered her words. "Libra, what are you talking about?" she asked incredulously.

And now the words were starting to spill out of him, as though he had kept them in for far too long and they were now forcing their way out of his throat at the very first opportunity. "I'm not who everyone really thinks I am. I play the role of the humble and modest and holy priest, but in all honesty, I'm not as pure and good-hearted as everybody thinks I am. I have no idea what I want to do or become, so I cling to the cloth like a lifeline, too afraid to leave behind this persona that I've constructed in search of something that would be truly fulfilling."

She blinked. "So, kind of like a xenocryst?"

This question stopped his rambling quite effectively. "A what?"

"A xenocryst," she explained. "Miriel was just telling me about them a while ago. They're crystals that have been trapped within a rock during the rock's formation, and so though all you see may be the other rock, the crystal is still inside, hidden in the center. So even though you may be a priest on the outside, who you _are_ is still the same. Your calling is only the outer coating of stone."

"No, Lissa," he said desperately. "What I'm saying is that I'm fool's gold. All glitteringly beautiful on the outside, but made up of nothing save for lies and worthless rock." The words had been said to him on many occasions, mostly by drunkards who had mistaken him for a woman, but also by a few whose opinions he cared about. Either way, he had received them often enough to start believing that they could be true. "I'm just a fraud playing at being holy. It's all an act, a performance to make people believe I'm something that I'm not."

"Really? Because during one of my sewing lessons, Gaius told me that you've been secretly making dolls and giving them to the orphanage. That doesn't sound like something someone would do just to keep up appearances. Look, mister. I think you're a beautiful sparkling crystal and if you want to get rid of that outward stone coating you've worn so long, I'm with you 100% of the way!" Caught up with emotion, she punched the air excitedly. Hand suspended awkwardly in the air, she looked around and blushed, putting her hands behind her back. "Er…did that make sense? 'Cause I'm kind of losing track of this metaphor…"

He bit his lip, thinking. "If I did give up my role as a priest, what would I do? I've never known anything else besides the cloth. Well, other than…" he trailed off, mind wandering to his unhappier times as a child.

"Hmm…well, you could always try becoming an artist?" she suggested.

"An artist?" The idea had not occurred to him. "Well, I suppose I could give it a try…"

"When the war ends, of course," she pitched in. "Though you'll definitely have loads of time to practice while we're camping! Here, draw me!" she exclaimed, striking a pose.

Smiling warmly, he replied. "I'd need a paintbrush and a canvas first, Lissa."

"No worries!" she grinned. "I'm in no hurry. I can wait all the time in the world for my portrait, and I'll be happy as long as it's done by you."

"No," he said, standing up. "I've been struck by that artistic inspiration, and it's now or never! Come on, let's head back to camp."

As they walked back, hands intertwined, Libra realized that though he was frightened and nervous, but with Lissa beside him, he knew could do anything as long as he set his mind to it. She had saved him from his self-imposed trappings of the church, and now he was free to shine as brightly as he wished.

* * *

A/N: Finally got the letter X out of the way! Gotta love me some Libra and Lissa, they make for a nice Owain :D (Arranged marriages for the sake of stronger children, how much more romantic can you get, amirite?) Hm...also Libra feels a little OOC, but eh.


End file.
